"You've been avoiding me."

Russia paused. China's voice was calm, but she'd known him long enough to catch the steely edge in his tone. She looked at the clock, at his place it would be lunch time. The image of him standing in front of a stove with a phone in one hand and a wok in the other made her want to laugh for some reason.

"I've been avoiding everyone. Do not feel as if you are special," she replied, trying to convey the icy condescension she used on everyone else. It was a pitiable attempt; China knew how she felt about him.

Her gut twisted guiltily as his concerned reply tugged at her heart. "Are you sick, aru? Something wrong with your government?"

Russia really did laugh then, and it edged on hysteria. Was something wrong with her? Oh, yes, but it wasn't at all what China thought. He'd never guess, not in a million years.

"I want to see you, Anya," he said, his voice soft. She wanted to tell him so badly, then again she never wanted to see the bastard again. She loved him, hated him, wanted him, loathed him, needed him. Russia's emotions were a more of a mess right now than usual and China had always been able to help before so maybe he could-

No. She wouldn't tell him.

No, yes, she would.

...Maybe?

She thought of China getting sucked into her troubles when he already had troubles of her own. China shouldn't have to deal with that, even if she was selfish enough to want his help.

No, she couldn't tell him.

"Anya," China repeated.

Russia's fingers curled into a fist, and she let it rest on the tiny bump on her stomach, the one that grew a bit larger each day.

"No," she said. "I don't want to see you." Lies, lies, lies. The more she lied the easier it became.

He sighed, anger tinging his desire. "We both know that isn't true. What is going on, Anya, that is so bad you cannot tell me?!"

As if it was his business. At most, it was only half his business. "Don't call again."

"I will! I'm coming to see you!"

Russia hung up. She thought about going to visit one of her sisters. Even little Belarus would be a reprieve from what would, could, should happen. She thought about staying and facing him. Flee or fight? She couldn't decide, so she inadvertently made the decision of inaction and waited.

"We need to talk."

Japan looked up from the steaming mug of tea Greece had just handed him. She was sitting across from him, with her back to the large windows in her livingroom. The sun made it hard for him to make out her expression, as it shone on her brown curly hair but cast her face in shadow.

"What is wrong, Athena?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. Greece's mood was agitated, he sensed that much, and he worried that their peaceful afternoon would meet an abrupt end.

Greece set down her own cup of tea and clasped her hands together. Her usually casual posture, a result of being almost perpetually sleepy, was rigidly upright. "I don't know how to tell you this," she said slowly. "It'll shock you… and you don't like that sort of thing." Japan carefully placed his mug on the coffee table, stood, and walked over to where Greece was sitting on the couch. He sat down and, shyly, held one of her hands in both of his.

"You know you can terr me anything." Japan blushed a bit as he said this. He was willing to admit to himself that he cared deeply for Athena, so deeply that it might be called lo- well, affection certainly. The fact that something troubled her made him uneasy, if he could help in any way-

"I'm pregnant."

Japan forgot how to breathe. Greece gripped his hand. Hard.

"You're the father."

Greece wasn't all that surprised when Japan fainted.

When he woke up, Japan could make out Greece's anxious face hovering over him. He sat up on the couch and rubbed his forehead. "What happened?" he mumbled.

The Grecian woman sighed and looked down at the floor. "You fainted." Japan blushed in embarrassment. He hadn't passed out like that since the Blueberry Incident (America still laughed when it was brought up). A hazy, startling memory resurface and he gasped. Greece had… no, that couldn't be true.

"You… um, you were terring me something, Greece-san?" he asked, thinking back to what he remembered a bit more clearly.

Greece looked at him for a long moment, then sighed again and turned away. "It's nothing. Nevermind."

The foggy recollection reasserted itself more forcefully. A tremor ran through Japan's body. Greece was… He was…

"You're pregnant," Japan whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

Greece's head shot up in surprise. Her lover was looking at her, the smallest of smiles on his face. "Kiku…" she choked. She hugging him fiercely, and though he stiffened a bit he didn't try to pull away.

"We have some things to discuss," Japan offhandedly said, trying to copy Feliciana's way of making a serious situation lighthearted with her tone of voice. Greece laughed, though she sounded a bit weepy. She pulled away, and laughed again when she saw Japan look at her midsection curiously.

"Nothing to see yet," she murmured.

"Are you sure I'm the father?" Japan asked, his voice suddenly somber.

Greece eyed him in what was almost anger. "It couldn't be anyone else," she said dryly. Japan flushed a bright red and she chuckled wickedly.

Once the blush had faded he sighed. "I don't know much about being a parent. You'd think, since I've been around for so many years…" Greece hugged him again, and hummed in content.

"Don't worry, I remember my own mother pretty well. I can teach you the basics… and we can learn the rest together…" Her voice got softer and she leaned more heavily against Japan. He rested against the couch and let her fall asleep. As the full force of the situation hit him, he chuckled and looked down at Greece's midsection one more. All at once he felt overwrought, frenzied, and perhaps a little feverish.

Erebus, one of Athena's many cats, wandered into the room and settled down on the rug. "Dôshiyô?" Japan asked the cat. Erebus just yawned and took a nap.

Welp. Things are getting interesting. Russia's in denial and Japan will probably have a panic attack when he tells the news to Germany and Italy. On a happier note, the next chapter will be about George and Elizabeth, since they turn a year old! *throws confetti*

Also, just spitballing ideas here, I have a document where I keep track of how old the babies are as the story progresses. Would you guys like it if I wrote how old the kids were before each chapter? (Starting now, I'm not gonna go back and edit the first 20 chapters.) Idk, I've seen other authors do something similar to this and I was curious.

Dôshiyô = What shall I do? (Used to convey distress and panic)